


Over Time

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Regret, Search for Atonement, alien baby, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: A five part series of Locus' interactions and thoughts about his life and how it relates to Agent Washington.





	1. Dossiers

Pouring over the multiple screens from the half dozen datapads that Locus had in front of him, it wasn’t a wonder why he had a headache. Even with the brightness turned down and the dossiers set to dark mode, the strain of looking at a screen for hours was starting to wear on him. Missing limbs. PTSD. Hallucinations. Voices. It never failed to amaze him the types of trauma that most soldiers endured under the watchful eye of the UNSC. He had endured his own set of horrors, believing he was no more than the weapons in his hands. Then he went out of his way to try to right that wrong. He and Felix had met up with a fellow bounty hunter. Now, it was just him and Felix, debriefing for a mission that the both of them wanted. The payoff was the highest the two of them had ever been offered, even if the overall cost would be high. However, Control made sure to keep the two of them well supplied. Now all he had to do was pick over the dossiers of the people that they were setting out to destroy to take out their heavy hitters first. 

These Reds and Blues were a joke. Each of the simulation troopers had barely anything that deemed them fit for military service. Taking care of them would be easy if he sent Felix in first and had him turn up the charm. 

Something seemed off about their blue leader. It wasn’t Leonard Church, though the name sounded familiar. 

“Are you still reading those damn files? I swear if I spent half as much time trying to get laid as you spent reading…”

“Quiet. You came back from their spot at Crash Site Bravo right?” Locus spun around in his chair to Felix. 

Felix shrugged, sitting on the desk across the room from Locus. “Yeah? What about it? It’s just a bunch of losers in a box canyon and really we should be able to make it look like they didn’t make it out of the crash.”

“I was listening to transmissions coming out of the crash site earlier and an Agent Washington was hailing for help after their crash. He’s not mentioned in the information that we have on these soldiers.” Locus got up to show Felix the file. Felix rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, so what? So one guy is different.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be Leonard Church, which sounds familiar. I went digging further and found--”

“That you’re a fucking nerd?”

“No. I found that Agent Washington was marked as deceased some time ago. He was killed when a rogue agent called The Meta had been gathering AI fragments from Project Freelancer, which just so happened to be run by Dr. Leonard Church. It seems way too close to be a coincidence.”

“Oh my god! I don’t care! Just let me go in there and kill them so that we can get back to focusing on our actual objective, which is getting a giant pile of money to sleep on while I watch my big ass TV. Okay? Okay.”

“Fine. We’re heading out tomorrow, correct? I need to check in with the Federal Army soon. They think I’m on reconnaissance.” Locus turned back away from Felix, walking across the room to open the door. He didn’t look up from the screen in his hand but waited for Felix to get the hint. 

“That’s the plan.”

Locus went back to sitting at the desk, switching his tablet over to the dossiers about Project Freelancer. He opened up the file about Agent Washington. David Joanes. History of violence stemming from a rough childhood. Bullied as a child then labeled as a bully himself after an incident in fifth grade. Mother moved him and his sisters after that. Fresh start. 

“Interesting.”

Locus poured over the notes on Agent Washington, studying them almost to the point of memorization. The soldier was capable in battle but found himself usually lacking when it came to personal connections. Transcribed interviews about Washington found him to be deeply insecure in his place in Project Freelancer, despite his proficiency and high rank on the leaderboard. He had never dropped below eighth place since qualifying. His team still treated him like he was a rookie because of his new status. 

_ As the project continued, more agents received neural implants for AI… _ Locus touched the back of his neck. He had never been one to let someone else inside his head, but the thought of being one of those few who would be slated for such a project filled him with a sense of wonder. He could perform better.  _ Agent Washington’s AI had to be removed after implantation due to severe emotional distress from both the AI and the agent. _ Locus cocked his head in confusion. Why would he be distressed from an AI?  _ Agent Washington was in a coma for several days following the removal of the AI. _

Locus flipped to another page, finding more information about his military history, background, family life, favorite foods. Why they would list bananas in there made little sense to him. 

Locus backed out of Agent Washington’s file, going to read more about the others, flipping back every once in awhile. Why was he hiding? What did he have to run from?

Locus opened up Washington’s file one last time.  _ Agent Washington died on a mission to help retrieve the last AI from Project Freelancer as a favor to Chairman Malcolm Hargrove as a way of clearing his name. His failure was noted.  _ That wasn’t the case though. Agent Washington was alive and well and hiding under the nose of the UNSC, or at least he could presume. There was too much time with Agent Washington that wasn’t accounted for. He knew there wasn’t a way that Agent Washington would lie dormant for years between Project Freelancer and prison. Why did he get thrown in jail in the first place? Freelancer? No. No one else had been jailed according to the dossiers. There had to be more that he was missing.  Locus grunted in annoyance, picking up a separate datapad to see if he had missed something somewhere.

He would have to join Felix tomorrow, watching from afar. He had heard his voice, or at least a voice that was using his name. Was it enough? He would have to see if this soldier was all he was cracked up to be, if he was this good to be able to dodge the UNSC.


	2. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content at the end

Locus was puzzled. Here he was, standing in front of Agent Washington, passing his cell day after day, not finding anything redeeming aside from his resolve. He had wondered if Wash could live up to what he had built up in his head, but looking at the unwavering glare left him with a feeling that he didn’t quite understand. Revulsion? With himself, maybe. 

As each day passed, he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. The ground out “Fuck you Monster” still grated on his ears each day. They were both monsters in the grand scheme of things. He didn’t get why Washington would think he was any worse. Wash had still killed. He had taken lives under an organization that had lied and manipulated him and regardless, those people were still dead. Calling him a monster wouldn’t bring them back. Time wouldn’t bring them back. 

Keeping the General in the dark had been the first priority because then he could keep Washington under his watchful eye. The doctor would come in as she pleased to do routine maintenance on him, which he watched over in awe, despite having no clue as to what she was doing. Felix had told him the four soldiers on his side were growing more determined by the day to recover their missing comrades. Felix was good at running distraction. Locus just needed some time. 

“Bring Washington to a separate room for me. I need to speak with him.” Locus nodded to the armed guards that had been on post each day as they went in a grabbed the docile soldier, taking him to the specified room. Locus instructed him to sit and he obeyed, looking away.

“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.”

“Wow. That’s a ringing endorsement.”

Locus didn’t process the sarcasm well, finding him far too close to Felix to want to take him seriously. He would sooner beat his face in with the butt of his shotgun than deal with him being snide. 

“Agent Washington. According to what I know, you died a while back. Now tell me: why?”

Wash sat there and stared Locus down. The glare made Locus’ stomach flutter as he waited to hear an answer that wasn’t going to come. 

“You seem to be very much alive right now.” Locus sat down across from Washington, setting his pistol down on the table between them. He pointed it over at Washington. “At least for now. You did quite the  _ heroic _ thing there when you made it so the rest of your team would be safe from the Federal Army. You don’t understand exactly what’s going on here though.” Washington continued to stare at him. He waited for him to speak. 

When Locus had grown tired of their little game, he got up. He took a few steps, standing next to Wash before he leaned down. 

“You may not want to tell me anything, but I know about Cecil Kyle.” Locus turned heel to walk out of the room, stopped by a shout of “wait!” before he fully shut the door.

“Was that enough to pull you out of your shell? Or do I have to bring back more secrets from your past? What does someone like you have to hide from someone like me? We aren’t so different, Agent Washington.” Locus took his seat in the chair across from him again, a small smile creeping across his face. “Now, talk.”

Half an hour later, Locus left the room and ordered the guards to return Washington to his cell. He had more information than he needed at that point, but much of it was a repeat of what he had already read in the dossier. It was Wash's tone of voice. In his own way, he felt like a failure. Locus had more power in that instant, yet he related to him in more ways than he wanted to let on. He saw Washington back to his cell, cocking his head. 

“I’ll want to speak with you again tomorrow, Agent Washington.” Locus heard the clamor of voices asking what happened to him. He knew that Washington wouldn’t tell them what was said. He knew too much. The smug feeling lasted until he retired to his bunk, taking special care to sneak up behind General Doyle for his daily report. 

As he laid down, he recounted the events of the earlier interrogation, if he could call it that. Washington was growing more uneasy just by his body language and revealing how much he knew. Twisting his words. Making him seem more like a tool than a person. The hitch in Washington’s voice hit him in a way he hadn’t considered before, and soon he found himself shedding his armor. He kept his exosuit on, not wanting to be caught entirely off guard if an attack happened on the base. He and Felix hadn’t planned for one, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

The fear in Washington’s voice that broke through from time to time made emotions in him stir and he pressed against the crotch of his exosuit, stroking along the hardening shaft underneath. Knowing he could still do that to someone who considered themselves such a seasoned soldier drove him wild. Felix would always try to get him going, but the fear of knowing that he had an upper hand was what he needed. Felix didn’t let others get the upper hand. But Washington... 

Locus hissed, releasing the seals around his groin to free himself from the confines of his exosuit and stroked himself fully. The roughness of his glove gave a different texture to him touching himself, yet he still thrusted up into his hand, thinking of the look on Washington’s face when he mentioned the childhood bully. He bit his lip and held back a groan, fingers deftly drawing out the feelings he needed released. His own fantasy of Washington was as good as the real thing. Knowing that he could potentially break him was intoxicating. Locus shuddered as he came on his glove, the liquid slowly getting everywhere as he laid back and enjoyed the afterglow of knowing he could rattle a super soldier that much.


	3. Remorse

If he was to believe that AI, Felix had been afraid of him. The shift in their partnership had been gradual but he could eventually see with the way that Felix had started to pull away from him. He didn’t see the fear so much of him, but of not having him around. Locus looked at the sword in his hand, activating it, knowing the power was tied to him now. Felix was dead. That was his way of knowing. The sword only worked for one person at a time. 

_ No, you won’t. _

His own words rang out in his ears. The Reds and Blues wouldn’t find him. He wouldn’t want to be found. The crimes he had committed were too great and he knew he had to live with it. The weights of his decisions as Hargrove’s ship was boarded were more than he wanted to deal with. He wouldn’t be getting paid. He didn’t have Felix to fall back on anymore. The AI’s words still stuck with him. Felix was… had been afraid of him. He was afraid of him leaving and the two of them going their separate ways more. He had remembered late night ramblings when Felix thought he wasn’t listening, where he absently asked what would happen if they left this life behind. He didn’t pay attention to them much because Felix talked to get his thoughts out. If he could voice them, he stopped worrying. 

The more Locus thought about it, the more he realized how much Felix worried about their future. Finishing the mission. Moving to the next point. What would happen after this. Locus had brushed it off as idle chatter, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with it somehow. Felix had been afraid and he had turned his back on him because of the way the AI phrased it.

He had been doubting himself ever since he stopped letting Felix push him so far. He wanted to get to the same end, but he didn’t necessarily get there using the same means.  He kept thinking back to when he had asked Agent Washington about his childhood, describing those intimate details that weren’t disclosed to anyone, bringing to light that Washington could be found out. He could be found out.    
Locus punched the rock next to him, moving it slightly. Frustrated with himself, he busied himself with climbing down the alien temple, wanting to be out of dodge before too much more happened that got him caught. Having finally made it down, he looked up, unable to see how far up the fight had taken place. He couldn’t see the platform from which Felix had been blown off of, but a quick search revealed the armor. Locus sighed, steeling himself for the task that he was going to do.

Locus started to dig. He wasn’t just burying a partner with each scoop of dirt that he shoveled out with his hands, but he was also burying the hate. The guilt. The greed. If he could leave Felix behind to try to do something good with his life, like the two of them had done with Siris after leaving the UNSC, maybe, he could find a way to redeem--- no. Atone. He knew there wasn’t any way to come back from massacring a planet, leaving it for waste so that his employer could use it as his own personal playground. No, burying Felix meant more than just putting a friend to rest. It meant letting go of the life they had together over the last several years and finally turning his back on being a mercenary. It meant, for the first time in a long time, hope. 

It still wouldn’t be easy.

Locus dug out the shallow grave, pushing the lifeless armored body into it. He quickly removed Felix’s knife from his thigh. Locus stabbed the ground above his head and made sure that the custom orange stripe on the blade could be seen. As he scooped the dirt back over his fallen partner, he found he felt lighter. This wasn’t about just letting go of Felix. He buried his past along with him. 

As he scooped up that last handful of dirt and fully covered Felix, it hit him. He could have saved Felix. He could have carried him back, kicking and screaming. Felix would have resented him and he still would have grieved the loss of their partnership when he left. Felix was far too driven by revenge to consider coming quietly. He could have joined him and died with him. He could have--- no.

What mattered now was what he chose to do. 

Locus’ walk back to the pelican drop ship they had on planet felt empty. He had left part of himself behind when he left Felix to die. When he buried him. There was no going back now. Now was for moving forward and keeping with his ideal that he could do something. 

Since meeting Washington he had remembered something from when he had him in that small interrogation room. He wasn’t a monster anymore and nothing like Locus because he was actively trying to do something to make himself better.  _ If I die making the world better, it doesn’t erase all the shit I did, but I’ll at least know I tried. _ Those words from Washington had struck a chord with him harder than they ever had before. He had to find a way to make things right and he had been right when he told the Red and Blue soldiers that he couldn’t do that behind the bars of a cell. 

With a heavy heart, Locus reached the pelican, grabbing the controls and leaving Chorus. He wouldn’t return unless his life depended on it. He could find ways to make it right without trying to meddle in the lives of the people he had helped destroy over the course of years. They wouldn’t accept his help anyway. He was a murderer to them. 

They were right.


	4. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential death of alien baby.

Months passed and Locus found himself far more frustrated with the galaxy he lived in. Each step forward that he took to make things better, someone would undo the work he had just fixed or would find a way to make it worse somewhere else. 

A month into his journey to do something right, Locus found himself on an alien colony. They had welcomed him upon seeing his sword, treating him like one of their own. Locus was thankful to be received so well, even if some of their customs were odd to him. 

He fell ill after being attacked by one of them not long after arriving, alarmed that within a week he had birthed an alien grub of one of their species. Locus didn’t understand exactly what had happened during the week of hallucinations and sickness, but after, he had a small black and green alien following him wherever he went. Locus was more amused than anything, though he did wonder about the mating rituals of the alien species if he could just end up sick for a few days before hallucinations wracked his body and a baby was pushed out of him. 

He stopped thinking about it instead because then that would mean he had sex with an alien. 

“Must have been something I ate,” he mumbled to himself as the small alien crawled all over him, taking to him like he was a parent instead of an outsider who had come to visit the colony. Locus slowly acquired the language of the aliens. He learned the small alien was his own child, as much as that alarmed him. The chief elder explained to him that those who possessed the keys would be the ones to bring strong ambassadors to their people as the mixed DNA allowed these alien children to communicate easily with both species. Locus had just blinked at their leader, nodding that he understood and went about performing menial tasks for them. 

A month passed and his son grew almost to his height in that time. Locus learned their language fully, understanding the alarm when the power to their colony suddenly was cut. He had been in charge of security of the alien colony since arriving and gaining their trust. They recognized him as a warrior. Locus was conflicted but unsurprised. Someone had taken the generator and upon further investigation, had cut the main power to the colony that kept it functioning. Locus grabbed the ship they had bestowed upon him, trying to find the cause of the outage when he saw a ship heading off into the distance. 

Locus followed the ship, finding it stop at a base much further than he planned to travel. He would need to get back before too long. He found Red and Blue soldiers, but something seemed wrong. The pale blue soldier accompanied them instead of an orange one. Their weapons were wrong. He couldn’t find the generator that they had taken, no matter how hard he tried. With how many of them there were, he knew his best option was to return to the colony. He didn’t have the resources to be able to incapacitate them. With some luck and a few of the aliens, he could get their generator back. They were counting on him to be able to keep them alive. That fact kept him going. Locus circled around again, looking for another place to exploit before he found an opening that he could slip through. He activated his camouflage, slipping in undetected. His scan of the rooms left him confused until he figured out the pattern of the base, soon easily navigating it. 

He listened to the ravings of a man who was building something when he spotted the generator on the opposite side of the room. Locus looked up, looking for some alarms, anything to distract the people so they would go the other way. He eventually set up an explosion on the other side of the base with some of the explosives he found around him, remotely detonating it and watching the soldiers flee the space opposite the generator. 

In the end, he managed to get the generator back onto the ship undetected amid the chaos he had caused. He had a small moment of victory before he found it would all be in vain. Luck wasn’t on his side. He returned to the colony, the little bit of power they had completely gone. The pressure systems unbalanced to the point of a breach in the hull ensuring the death of everyone. Locus grit his teeth, not finding the child he was told was his. The scattered bodies reminded him too much of Chorus, and he clenched his fists in anger. He should have been there to help. He should have… 

Locus wrestled with himself, setting up a small memorial for the colony in the main courtyard, already changing from what he once was. The man he knew before wouldn’t have mourned the dead, human or otherwise, if he hadn’t cared. He had come to know these aliens and now he needed to fix as much as possible. He owed it to them for taking him in without judgement.

He grabbed what he could, swearing to avenge the beings that had taken him in without question, finding their ability to trust him unfathomable. So many others would have turned their back. He lowered his head, helmet painted differently than the X his armor once showed. He had changed the armor not long after leaving Chorus, wanting to leave that life behind. New markings for a new man. 

He waited until the food reserves ran low, letting several days pass, gathering the dead and ensuring each were paid proper memorial. He was determined to get those who did this. Locus set back out, his heart heavy again with loss over those who had taken him in when he saw a helmet floating in space. He hadn’t the time to process what was going on before he had taken the ship board. The robot inside the helmet recognized him and he headed on his way.


	5. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> former background Grey/Locus

_ Running out of time. _ Locus looked over at the Wash next to him. He had lost a small amount of blood despite the injury. Dehydration would help him here. His blood would be sludge. Locus wouldn’t have to worry about the loss as much as he did initially. Between the bandages, the biofoam… Biofoam didn’t do much good in cases like this. Locus had to be careful to only use enough to slow the bleeding, as too much would keep Wash from breathing. The foam would otherwise seal his throat and well... It was better for smaller injuries. He was still on the way to Chorus and nothing was going to stop him. He had set his ship to head to Chorus as quickly as possible so that he could focus on the head in his lap as he did his best to keep Wash alive. 

“You need to survive.” Locus leaned down after removing his helmet, then leaned down to brush a delicate kiss across Wash’s temple. It was awkward, but he had Wash seated next to him, as he had Grif. The only difference was Wash was halfway across his lap so he could tend to his bullet wound. The ship was too small and he made due with what little space he had. He held onto Wash, knowing he couldn’t do much else than keep him comfortable on the ride. His ship alerted him to the upcoming planet and Locus spotted the blockade around Chorus as it came up closer on screen.  _ Time flies when you’re attending to a dying… person. _ He pressed a final kiss to Wash’s forehead, hoping he would make it in time for someone to do a better job than him.  _ I should have taken the shot. _

“Shit.” Locus surprised himself at the curse, still finding it warranted given the circumstance. Locus gritted his teeth, setting his ship’s cloaking device and continued on. He turned off the reverberation from his helmet, speaking directly. The volleyball of Caboose on the dash stared back at him and he smiled. “Don’t worry Caboose. Washington will make it to the hospital safely.”

“A'rynasea to Chorus Headquarters. I’ve just made it through the UNSC blockade undetected. I have an injured passenger and I’m requesting permission to land at the hospital with attention given to Dr. Grey.” Locus waited for the return for his hale. Several moments passed before the transmission came back on.

“Communications head Bitters. State your name.”

“Officer Ortez. I have an injured passenger and I need to land immediately. I need a trauma unit ready to take Agent Washi---”

“Hold up, you have Wash? Yeah dude, I’ll get you clearance.” Locus slumped back in his seat, checking on the autopilot and returning back to Wash. The bleeding had slowed and his ship had his suit’s life support systems working at a moderate capacity. Locus readied himself as soon as his ship landed, thankful they had taken him seriously and brought out a trauma team to the roof landing pad. 

He expected Grey to stare him down followed shortly by her wheeling Wash away to be worked on, saved. He expected the soldiers who had come up to butt him in the back of the head with their rifles. He went quietly either way, submitting to the manacles and walking to the cell. He knew he shouldn’t be disappointed but he was. They didn’t know how he was trying to change.  _ Wash waking up will ensure that they know I’m not a threat. They only bought the officer line long enough to see me. _

“Ha, good one there. You’ve always been a threat. Agent Washington’s word isn’t going to save you.” Locus looked over and frowned at the guard, grinning internally when the guard looked away from his glare. He didn’t want to do anything that would keep Wash from making it back to the others, but he knew this was the only way. He was risking everything… and he knew why. 

“How is Agent Washington?” he asked, shifting in his cell slightly. The guard didn’t move and he waited.

Days passed before Dr. Grey came to greet him personally, telling the guards to leave so she could have a word with their prisoner. 

“Well isn’t this an unpleasant surprise!” Locus looked up as the Doctor chirped, clapping her hands in front of her. “However, your presence has been requested by one Agent Washington. He has been recovering nicely over the past few days, thanks to yours truly. What the hell did you do to him before you brought him in?”

Locus sighed audibly. “That wasn’t me. Wash was shot in a firefight where he had wandered into active fire following multiple days in confinement. He was delirious from dehydration and malnourishment.”

“So we’re supposed to take you at face value? Like everything before never happened?” Grey laughed heartily. “So you’re turning over a new leaf or something like that? Genocide isn’t something you can come back from.”

“I know.”

“The people here still want you dead.”

“As they should.”

“Why should I let you go then?”

“Because Washington needs to be able to make it back to his friends and I’m the only one who knows where they are. They don’t know I came here specifically. Agent Carolina is in a similar condition as Wash. I did the right thing by bringing him here.” Grey nodded at his admission. 

“Wash was barely alive when I got him on my table. I lost him a few times as well. He’s recovering though.” Grey cocked her head. “You didn’t just leave him to die. Why?”

Locus sat there, thinking over his response carefully. “Because he’s tried to make things better after all the things he did wrong. He didn’t deserve to die there. Not like that.”

He sat in solitude for days after she left. Grey would return to talk to him about Wash’s condition, feeling like it was her duty to update him. She had ordered the manacles be taken off of him. He had too much time to sit and think. His mind drifted less to Felix these days, realizing now how unhealthy their codependency had been. Helping Grif had given him a sense of purpose. Aiding the Reds in Blues in an escape had eased the feeling of guilt that hadn’t left him since before he left Chorus. Getting Wash, not Agent Washington, to a doctor had been soothing to know he could do something to help. The scuffle of boots across the floor was nothing new; it just tore him from his thoughts. 

“Hey big guy.” The slight rasp in Wash’s voice filled him with relief. He was still in good shape. “Grey says we can head back. You should get your ship and we should sneak out while Grey has communications distracted.” Wash opened the door to the cell and Locus got up, standing in front of him. He nodded and the guard led the way to the ship dock. 

Before they got into the ship, out of view of anyone in the bay, Locus pulled Wash into a hug. Wash stiffened in his arms before relaxing, tentatively circling his arms around Locus. 

“Never did I think I would see the day where I would be hugged by you. You okay?”

Locus nodded, releasing Wash and holding his hand out to help him up into the ship. 

“We’ve come a long way.”

“We have.”


End file.
